


The Heart Of Holmes

by B_Uthoughtwrong



Series: A Little Paint Covered Watson [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes (BBC Radio)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Siblings, Character Insert, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-04
Updated: 2017-05-14
Packaged: 2018-08-28 10:46:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8442865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/B_Uthoughtwrong/pseuds/B_Uthoughtwrong
Summary: In which Audrey Watson, John's younger sister, sets the records straight and finds out once and for all whether or not Sherlock Holmes has a heart.





	1. IT WAS A TART ATTACK

**Author's Note:**

> YOU SHOULD PROBABLY READ THIS:  
> HELLO YOU LOVELY HUMAN,  
> You should know that this is PART TWO of my work. You would already see that in the tags but I just want to stress it out. I don't necessarily think that you have to read the first part of the series though, because there isn't really as much lovey-dovey action between my OFC and Sherlock as I expected there to be.
> 
> Nonetheless, there actually is a lot of character development there and can explain a lot on how and why the official characters from Sherlock act around my character the way they do. But once again, it isn't really going to confuse you if you read this first... I think.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bruhhhhhhhhhhhhh... its happening, they are going to have a romantic encounter in this seriesssss!!!! Yasss fool  
> Anyway, sorry for any typos as per usual.  
> Adios  
> xxx

I couldn't sleep. I just couldn't.

In a change of circumstance, Sherlock slept like a baby, at least that's what I thought, until I heard slight chatter from outside his bedroom; I was in the living room, drawing the window and the view outside, letting my recently suppressed artist side free, when I heard this. I went to the source of the sounds and discovered something.

"Lestrade, I've... solved your... case."

"Shut up."

"Mm, yess... that was a good deduction... for an **idiot."**

I heard, through the door of Sherlock's bedroom and lowly laughed. I slowly opened the door and peeked.

"No that's... _shutup."_

"Go away, Mycroft... yeah... cry about... it."

"Tell me something... I don't already... know. No."

"Shut up... that was wrong... _yourewrong."_

I held in an amused laugh. He talked in his sleep, Sherlock Holmes had somniloquy. He was mostly saying _"shut up"_ in all directions. He stopped occasionally to sigh or snore, when he did, he sometimes rushed the words.

"SHUT... up."

"Oh... John's my helper... no... I'm the... _main... person..._ he's... my _sidekick."   
_ I laughed at this particular sentence, thinking I didn't want to miss what's left of the show. I walked inside the room and sat on the floor, with the drawing notebook I had drew in, still in my hand.

"Tell me, are you... even trying to... figure... _thisout."_

"IT WAS A TART ATTACK."

 _"nonono,_ **heart."**

"MUR... der......... _er?"_

"Shut up... _shutupshutup."_

"Yes... thank you... Mrs. Hudson."

"John... _yesss_ tea."

_"shutupanderson."_

_"Forgoodnesssake... shutup"_

"World's greatest... detector......  _thatswrong."_

I chuckled at that then whispered, "Would you kill me if I drew you?"

"Audrey..." he then said my name, right after my question. I panicked, and held my breath. Had he actually been awake the whole time? Shit, was he playing me? "she's Watson's sister." he continued his sentence. I sighed in relief.

"No, the... other one moron."

"BULLOCKS!" he said louder than all the other words he'd been saying, but still quite softly.

 

Since I probably really shouldn't be listening to him talking in his sleep, I then decided to just look out the window and draw whatever I felt like drawing. So I stood up from the floor, walked to the window and opened a blank page, drawing scribbles, and lines, and what not

 _"shutup..._ you don't know... what... _youretalking..._ abo..ut."

"no... _nono... shutup_ _!"_

Sadly for me, all I could think about was Sherlock and his sleep talking, so I figured that it was best that I just got some shut eye as well. I turned around, glanced at _sleeping beauty_ , then walked out of the room.

I went to the sofa and sat down, placing my drawing notebook on Sherlock's cluttered desk before I did so. I wave of exhaustion then rippled through my body as I then rested my body on the uncertain surface, uncertain because it was soft at some parts and like rocks at others.

I easily drifted to the land of dreams and thought about London, and attending an art gallery filled with my work.

 

_"Audrey. I was thinking you wouldn't show." John said, as he fixed the tie on his crisp black suit. I laughed as I got out of the car, pulling the skirt of my long, golden dress up so I don't step on it. John lent me his hand and then helped me get out of the car.  
"Why would I miss my own art showcase?"_

_"Sherlock's already inside." he whispered in my ear, as if it was a secret only I could hear, something only he wanted me to hear._

_We got inside of the venue. Snobs and rich socialites were filling the place, over-expensive clothes and jewelry embellishing their tiny bodies, whom they deprived of the right nutrients, in order for it to be deemed sexy._

_All eyes were on me as they then applauded._

_I smiled brightly, then waved at them, saying "Thank you, thank you." I even did flying kisses to show how much I cared._

_"STOP!" a powerful voice commanded._

_All eyes were on the person who said the word, the tall, blue eyed, black haired man wearing his signature trench coat and scarf over a suit. His wild curly hair, for a change, was tamed by a lot of hair gel. **"You are a cheat.** " he pointed at me._

_I gasped at that as John quickly moved away from me to turn to me in shock. "It's true isn't it, I should've known." John said, immediately siding with whatever Sherlock was implying._ _He was exposing my paintings, exposing the truth, saying they were lifeless, meaningless, they weren't made with heart._

_"You don't care about making paintings with feeling. You are doing this for money, for fame. You'll burn in hell for it. Trading your life to be..." Sherlock stared._

_"POPULAR!" they all said in unison as they then attacked my work, kicking it, smashing it, burning it even._

_"STOP, please... I truly tried." I begged, on my knees. "Well, try harder." Sherlock spat back with venom._

_"I felt that I put my heart in it. I swear." I said getting up, running towards John, trying to explain myself. Sherlock heard this and laughed, dryly. "Swear? Swear it. truly?" he asked. "YES! Yes! I do." I said, in a begging tone, on my knees once more in front of him. "Do you swear on your life?" he added, hands behind his back, as he conveyed a testing look._

_"I do. I do." I said, a tears now falling from my eyes._

_"Alright." he said, nonchalantly. He then pulled out a gun from behind then pulled the trigger right infront of my face._

* * *

 

I woke up, sweaty and scared. I sat up from my place and saw that it was all just a horrible nightmare. It still wasn't morning but it was night either, it was in between both states. The sun was shining, with its rays softly caressing the facade on the east of London but the west of London still had a little bit of gleaming stars, still showcasing their beauty.

I decided that going back to sleep was no longer an option for me and my shaken body's state. I then got up, off of the sofa and went to the kitchen to put a kettle on. While I was waiting for it to boil, I walked around the room, over and over again.

Once I got quite dizzy doing so, I stopped and caught sight of Sherlock's violin. I walked towards it and put it in position, playing the only piece I knew. It was one of the things I learned from my trip in Moscow. I wasn't very good at it but it was okay... well, it was less than okay. I had asked Sherlock to teach me how to play before, but because he refused to do so, I was going to be stuck with knowing one piece on the violin for the rest of my life.

As I was playing, I couldn't help but realize the meaning of my nightmare. I had been so easily inspired by every everyday object, due to John being so kind and brotherly, and Mrs. Hudson being so sweet and motherly, and Sherlock being so witty and... well, _Sherlock-y_. I had made so many paintings, I ran out of space in the living room to place them, or simply even space to walk, which is why, as I said earlier, I had been recently suppressing my artistic side.This led to Mrs. Hudson telling me to get rid of all of the paintings I made. I immediately called a fellow artist right after, not wanting to make anyone cross, and he took care of that situation.

 

"The kettle?" a voice said, snapping me out of my thoughts. I jumped from where I stood and squealed softly as I saw that it was Sherlock, who had just woken up, referring to the whistling kettle on the stove.

I bashfully handed him his violin, feeling quite guilty because I did not have his permission. He didn't seem to mind though, simply taking it from my hands. I then went to the kettle and set up the table for tea."Would you fancy a cup, love?" 

"Yes." he said quickly, playing his violin. "Also, your Russian piece sounded off." he added, making me chuckle.


	2. THAT DID NOT MEAN GIVING OR ACCEPTING LAP DANCES!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I POSTED THIS BEFORE ACTUALLY POSTING IT  
> SO IF YOU READ IT BEFORE READ IT AGAIN!  
> NOT FULLY SPELL PROOFED, I APOLOGIZE FOR ANY TYPOS  
> BYE  
> xxx

It was early in the afternoon now, yet John was still asleep. Sherlock and I, on the other hand, were awake as ever.

I was standing by the window as I painted a bird's eye point of view of Baker street. As I finished up the piece, Sherlock got a call from Lestrade, asking him to visit the crime scene, evident from the conversation.

"Yes. No, the crime is too boring. Obvious homicide, check with a likely jealous relative. Shut up. It's a waste of everyone's time. Hmmm, cousin. When am I not sure?" with that last sentence, he rudely dropped the call, surely frustrating whoever was at the other end of the line.

"You know, you should really lighten up." I said, as I placed the canvas by the window. "Or at least say good bye after a call." I said walking towards him.

He groaned and shot a glare, "Why would I call something _good_ if it isn't?"

I chuckled at that and smiled at him. "Lovely, aren't you?" I walked towards him, ruffled his hair and went to the bathroom.

 

At this point, I had taken a shower, changing from my previous clothes into a backless, high necked, black colored slip dress, with lace on its hem and cream colored cotton socks. Now, I was sitting on sofa chair, opposite to Sherlock. I had my legs crossed, right pointer finger by my lip balm covered lips, and was hugging a large teddy _panda_ bear I had gotten from China.

I was looking at Sherlock--- observing really, seeing the uniquely sculpted face he had and piercing blue eyes that were cool and commanding. I was observing him in my artistic point of view and he was returning the favor. Obviously though, he was observing in his _highly-functional sociopath_ point of view. He probably saw right through me, and already knew all my flaws and weaknesses.

I shuffled from my seat and suddenly blurt out, "So, _what_ am I?"

 

He clenched his jaw and rested his once placed together hands that touched the tip of his lips, down on either side of the arms of the seat.

He was about to tell me but then I jumped to him and covered his mouth, dropping my teddy to the floor. I screw my eyes shut, then sighed. I opened my eyes and whisper-yelled, "DO NOT EVER, **EVER** TELL ME." I started to breathe heavily at the thought of him telling me what he actually saw.

I put my hand away, then apologized. I shook the awkwardness from my body, stood up, then picked up his beloved violin. I placed the instrument on my hot skin, feeling its cool surface and picked up the bow.

"Now, how about you teach me how to play, yeah?"

I turned to him, and struck his instrument with his bow, creating a loud sound, producing a single note. He didn't flinch, simply looking at me. I raised a single eyebrow at that. He obviously had no interest in teaching me anything.  
"Well am I going to have to break your violin then?" I asked, holding it on its neck and putting close to the side of the sofa chair's arm.

Sherlock just looked at me, throwing a testing glare. I smirked at that.

I brought the violin to the top of my head then brought it down quickly, stopping when it got close to the surface. He knew I couldn't do that, even if I was really cross with him. I just was not like that.

"Screw you." I spat with a chuckle, jokingly angry.

I put his violin down, then put my hands on my hips, biting on my lower lip as I did. "Am I that obvious? Like... _transparent?"_ I asked, making it obvious that I didn't want a rude reply.

 

"Yup." he replied, too quick, popping the _p_ as he said the word.

 

I huffed at that, him replying too quick and the response being _yes._  Then I thought that no one could _truly_ be transparent, right? I mean, people have habits and agendas but I'm pretty sure a 89 year old no longer possesses the manners of a 5 year old. At that, I then decided to do something... _unexpected,_ hopefully.

I quickly went to him, sat on his lap, then wrapped my arms around his shoulders. "What about that?" I asked, then fiddling nervously his curly hair that was on the side of his head. He didn't move one bit, at least until he then looked at me and replied to my question.  
"You were trying to prove you weren't obvious by showing me that you'd do something _unexpected_ which actually cancels out the element of surprise because you doing something out of the blue completely correlates to your predictability with wanting to prove a point." he said, quickly but in an expressive manner, his eyes looking right into my soul.  
My nose twitched and a slightly giggled, "You have a point."

"Who has a point?" the voice of my newly-woken-up brother.

He walked to look for the people in the apartment, meaning us. When he did see us, his eyes grew unbelievably large. I smiled at him, then cheerily greeted him _good morning._

 

I got off of Sherlock's lap and pat John's back.

 

I walked into the kitchen, glancing at my brother, whose eyes were the size of the moon, as I reheated the kettle I had prepared earlier today. As I put it on the stove, John cleared his throat and raised his voice.  
"As much as I want you and Sherlock to get along..." he then turned to Sherlock. "THAT DID NOT MEAN GIVING OR ACCEPTING LAP DANCES!"

I chuckled at that then walked back to them, picking up the panda I dropped on the floor. "I was not dancing, just sitting." I said to John as I passed him. I sat down on the chair opposite Sherlock's, leaving John standing, with his hand in a fist and placed on his hips _~~(IT'S SO LEGITIMATELY SASSY THAT IT RHYMES)~~_ , and a cross little face.

"This is **NOT** funny! Why were you on his lap?" he said softly but harshly.

I looked at him and shrugged, "That was me proving a point, my dear." I cuddled my bear and then said that ' _it was no big deal_.'

He groaned then started telling both of us off, as he did, Sherlock luckily answered a call, saving him from having to pretend he was listening to John, and I on the other hand, took care of the whistling kettle and prepared tea.

 

John's voice was loud and irritating, which is why what ever he said was definitely not listened to by either of us.

I, instead, just made three cups of tea, _wondering if Sherlock had some poison stored somewhere_... kidding, I would  never do that...

Sherlock didn't listen either, pretending to actually be interested in whatever the person who called him was saying. I finished preparing three cups of tea, each of them made for the liking of each of us.

I groaned and rolled my eyes at my still nagging brother, finally shutting him up by giving him a cup of tea. I then got the two other cups, gave Sherlock his as he then immediately ended his call. I gave him a questioning look, he saw it and immediately knew what I was thinking. "Lestrade. Obvious murder... again." he said to me, taking a sip of tea, then turning to see John, still standing were he was, looking displeased but had finally ended his sermon and drunk his tea.

" _Tea fixes everything_." I said with a soft and please chuckled, taking a sip from my cup. "You can take a seat now, John." I added as I then turned to him.

"But not on my lap." Sherlock said lowly, but was still loud enough for John to hear. I almost choked on my tea and so did John.

 

Let's just say that after that statement, not even tea could calm the rage of my brother.


	3. Please just kiss me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YOU KNOW THE DRILL  
> I AM LAZY THEREFOR THE SPELL PROOFING WILL BE DONE SOME OTHER TIME  
> I HOPE YOU STILL LOVE ME THOUGH  
> AUF WEIDERSEHEN  
> xxx

I rolled my eyes at the idiots I was with.  
"For goodness sake, are you children done arguing?" I said to John and Sherlock who were fighting over whether or not they should accept the case Lestrade came to them with. Lestrade literally came here because Sherlock was not answering his phone. His excuse was he knew that it was a boring case.

Lestrade didn't even get to say what the case was because Sherlock pushed him aside and turned to play his violin instead.

Though Sherlock's normality of being rude was a little extra today, I'm sure John was pretty much over that, but for some reason, maybe because he answered a call, probably from one of the girls he had gone on a date with called it quits, he lost all his composure thus world war three was taking place.

They didn't even hear my previous statement because of how heated the conversation was.

 

I turned to Lestrade who evidently looked like he regret coming here, heck, even existing. I frowned at that and thought that if I couldn't stop the from arguing, I could at least save the poor man who didn't need to see this. I then pulled him by the arm, bringing him with me as I went outside the room and closed the door.

"Embarrassed isn't even how I feel right now." I said to him as I crossed my arms and rubbed them warm. I was still wearing the dress I had on yesterday, which may I add was backless, therefor it does not go well with bras, also, there isn't a heater here by the hall... me and my boobs are freezing.

"No, no... it's alright, I should've expected something like this to happen."  
"But that just makes it worse, no one should expect all hell to break lose like that."  
He laughed, "Yeah, but Sherlock's just like that... I'm used to it."  
"No you're not." I chuckled.  
He chuckled as well then nodded in agreement, "No... I'm not."

He smiled a small smile as I shook my head in disapproval. "They just need to cool off, then I'm dragging both their arses to the crime scene." I said, turning to the door, still hearing their shouts. I waited for a bit but the fight seemed to have gotten more heated. I turned back to Lestrade and bit my lower lip. "Yeah, they never cool off actually." I said as I then told him to wait there for a moment while I got something from Mrs. Hudson.

 

I knocked before I entered Mrs. Hudson's room, only doing so when she say the words,  _come in._

I told her that it was a  **code mustard gas** because them fighting might actually feel just as corrosive as the deadly gas. She nodded then sighed as this was the third time this week I had resorted to doing this. She handed my what I need and I thanked her, then marched upstairs.

I turned to Lestrade as he knit his eyebrows as he saw what I was holding. I shrugged then said, "It's 100% effective during these circumstances," breathed in and whispered  _now or never_ to myself. I opened the door and walked in, put one hand on my hips as I used the object I had in the other to get both of them to shut up.

It was an air horn and I pressed it long enough to make anyone stop what they were doing and cover their ears.

 

"Now, both of you idiots, go get dressed be ready in less than five minutes or  _so help me,_ I will beat your arses to your grave." I said shooting them my signature _TRY-AND-MESS-WITH-ME-BITCH-I-FUCKING-DARE-YOU_ look. They both clenched their jaws and tried to talk but I just crossed my arms and raised a brow.

They then scattered off and got ready. I as well got ready as I needed to make sure they would behave on their way there and when they actually get there.

"Wow, you are dynamite." Lestrade said as I wore my boots, gloves, and coat.

I rolled my eyes then chuckled. "Thanks, I guess."

I got a hair tie and then put my hair into a pony tail,  _tsking_ at the slow moving men. "Time is running, don't make me wait any longer."

John then showed himself, all snugged up in his coat and scarf, making me realize I didn't have one. "You know, usually it'd be me rushing you to get ready." my brother said as I stole his scarf and wore it. He groaned, knowing he'd have to get another one for him, as I replied "Well, that is not the case right now so  _chop, chop._ "

* * *

 

 

After our visit to the crime scene, I thought I deserved to be treated with some fish ans chips because they officially have emptied out my _care cup_ also, it's been a while since I've had the dish. I should add that they were unsurprisingly immature all throughout the investigation, with John telling Sherlock to  not be rude and Sherlock telling John to not be annoying and I telling both of them to shut the hell up.

I think Donovan likes me, just because I can tell Sherlock to shut up and he, most of the time, listens.

I ordered 5 orders of fish and chips, two of which will be takeaway, and water for three people. The employee nodded at that, pressing the buttons of the register, as John walked over to me . " _Five orders of fish and chips?_ Why'd you order _five?"_   John asked, as he payed for it, knowing I wouldn't and in spite of his question. I walked off and I sat down next to Sherlock who got a table by the window, my favorite place to sit.  
I turned to my brother and replied nonchalantly. "One you, one for Sherlock, one for Mrs. Hudson as a thank you for the air horn, and two for me. One for now and one for later. You do the math." I said as I rested my elbows on the table and my head on my hands.

He chuckled then sat down with us.

"I still think the case's boring." Sherlock said like a child, post-tantrum.

Both me and my brother rolled our eyes and huffed. I turned to the blue eyed menace and placed my arm over his shoulders and side hugged him. "Little boy, it's alright. Solving that case doesn't make you less of a  _high-functioning sociopath_ than you were before."  I said as I breathed in his scent, aftershave and cigarettes. I groaned as I realized that he had still been smoking but decided to tell him off later because I felt a wave of exhaustion crash down on me, and boy did it  _crash down_.

Man, I have to call my mother, my poor, poor mother you had to deal with stress like this on a daily basis. I need to thank her for putting up with my bullshit.

As a man gave us our orders, three on plates and two takeaways, I broke away from Sherlock and smiled like a child on Christmas day. I thank the man as he places our order on the table and I immediately dig in as he leaves. I might have literally stuffed the food in my mouth which is why John laughed and said, "You still love fish and chips like before and it's precious."

I playfully kicked him under the table and he playfully threw a testing look right back. I giggled like a kid then we all ate in peace.'

 

I love how food brings us closer together.

 

We all then talked about whatever we wanted to til we ran out of things to talk about. In between the conversation John got a phone call and excused himself from the table and went outside in order to hear whoever was on the other side of the line clearer. I then saw as John went out, a familiar looking man walked in. I looked at him for a little bit, wondering where I saw that face before.

I don't know many bald guys so you'd think I'd easily distinguish who he was but I think that was exactly what threw me off. He sat in the corner of the room and ate fish and chips as well. I turned to Sherlock who was looking at me.

"I see you have a thing towards bald men." he said, half amused, half annoyed.  
"What? No, no. I think I know him... what do you think he does for a living?"  
"Audrey, I'm not going to guess what he does for a living..." he said pausing for a brief moment, "...because I already know." I rolled my eyes and whisper yelled. "Stop being a damn show off and tell me."  
He chuckled and looked at him of a moment, "He has a limp, prominent when he walked in, suggesting he works in an active environment prone to accidents. He has dry and rough hands, meaning he --" "Get to the point."

Sherlock turned to me and smirked, "You're no fun." I rolled my eyes and looked at him expectantly.

"He's an architect. 32. Right handed. Second born--" I cut him off my a gasp. "Holy-- he's my _ex."_ I then whisper yelled.

Sherlock knit his brows, "So you do have a thing for bald men."

I turned to him and nodded in disapproval. "No, no, he had... hair then." I said making a confused face, turning back to look at _Redford_ again. Once I did, I saw that he was looking at me and I then quickly looked away. "Shit, shit, shit. He saw me."

I fiddled with my food then turned to Sherlock who was looking at him who then turned away. "He's coming over." he said lowly.

I turned to Sherlock with wide eyes nodded no. Shit, no way was this happening, not now.  
"No, no, Sherlock he can't... he'll try and join us and then he'll try to get me to meet up with him and I can't. He gradually destroyed my self-esteem making me believe that I was not meant to be painting--" I said stopping to huff as I remembered his cold words. He then wrapped his arm around me. "I can handle him, he's just a stupi-"  
"Kiss me."  
"...What?"  
"Kiss. Me. Nothing is more uninviting than two people's lips together."  
"Yes bu--"  
"Please just kiss me."

 

With that he did, it was soft and warm, it made electricity rush through me. I cupped the side of his face and leaned in more but then broke away, not wanting to over do it.

I turned to my food and pretending that what had just happened was totally normal, but inside was screaming. "Audrey?" the voice I had been anticipating called. I turned to the owner and saw that it was indeed my lousy ex.

"Who's this, _my love_?" Sherlock asked, pulling me closer to him, almost making me laugh because of the nickname he called me.  
"Sherlock, this is my ex Redford. Redford, this is my _boyfriend_ Sherlock." I said turning to the two of them, choking out the word _boyfriend_.

"You must've been one big idiot." Sherlock said. I snapped my head bag to Sherlock and gave him a questioning look. "Sorry, what did you say?" Redford asked, astonished by the remark of my  _boyfriend._

"Wow, stupid and deaf. _Darling,_ how did you ever put up with him?" Sherlock then turned to me, raising his brows. "I just called you an idiot, because a man who had such an amazing woman in his grasp should've never let her slip away and should've worshiped the ground she walked on, literally for this matter."

I was completely in a loss for words and was wondering if I heard him right. But I guess I did because I wasn't the only one who was surprised as Redford looked like he had just seen a ghost.

 

"Now, let's go _baby_  before we catch his stupidity."  Sherlock said, making me stand from where I sat. So I did and stood in front of my ex for a brief moment. Sherlock stood up as well and got my takeaway. "I hope you wise up , _Rudolf."_ Sherlock said pulling me away by draping his arm around me walking towards the exit

But before we walked away from my ex, Sherlock stopped me and kissed me on the lips again, cupping either side of my face, making my stomach turn in all ways, leaving my legs feel like jelly. He then winked at him as we finally walked away.

 

We got out of the restaurant just as John was about to walk in. I threw him a panicked look and told him that we're going home.

"But, my fish and chips." he said with a saddened tone. I grabbed the takeaway Sherlock was holding and handed it to him. "You can have mine but we have to go."

 

We immediately got a cab and drove home.  
"I can't believe we just did that." I said turning to Sherlock who was sitting to my left. "Well, you better because we really did." he said with a soft smirk, turning to me.

"Wait, wait, what did you two do?" John asked with no clue in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omg, what did I just do  
> hahaha  
> thanks for reading, love you <3  
> xxx


	4. Nothing's changed between us. I don't love you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FOREWARNING  
> i did not spell proof  
> bye bye  
> xxx

We got home laughing, at least Sherlock and I was... John was only half amused by the incident earlier today.

We got out of the cab and stood outside the apartment.

 _"Hahaha, hmm,_ did I _haha_ thank you you that yet?" I asked Sherlock with a laugh as I stood in between John and Sherlock, wrapping my arm around behind their waists. John then rolled his eyes and pulled out the key, breaking away from me.

Sherlock lowly chuckled and replied yes, and that this was the fifth time I had asked him, he added.

John groaned, "Alright, get inside _love birds."_      
With that, I lost control and held on to my brother for dear life, as I was now laughing my head off. It's hilarious to think that Sherlock and I would ever be lovers. Though his actions were quite extreme, he did save me from a lot of potential heart break, and I am very thankful. As I thought of this, my laughter died down and I then turned to Sherlock, who was walking inside now. John followed shortly, beckoning me to get out of the cold.

I walked in and got upstairs, quickly then hearing a ringtone.

 

"It's not mine this time..." John said turning to me, making me run to where my phone was.

I found it on the kitchen table and smiled when I saw that the caller was James.

 _"Namaste."_  
_"Uh, is this Audrey Watson...?"_  
_"Haha, of course it is. I just said hello in Hindi, baby James. You'd think a person who graduated in Oxford would know that at least." I said, teasing him._  
_He chuckled and pointed out, "Not everyone knows Hindi, little bird."_  
_"Point taken. Why did you call?"_  
_"Well, I **accidentally** booked a reservation for two tomorrow night at a hard-to-book restaurant and I need a plus one who isn't as annoying as my other colleagues."_  
_I rolled my eyes and laughed, "For indirectly calling me annoying, I disrespectfully decline your offer and say to you: goodnight."_  
_"NO! Please don't hang up... I was only joking, darling. You know you are my most favorite-st person ever."_  
_"Strike two, wrong grammar. Big turn off, love."_  
_"I'M SORRY, bollocks. You... are still one tough biscuit, Audrey."_  
_"I try."_  
_"Pick you up at 8?"_  
_"No, I am more than capable of driving to 'London Love' tomorrow night?"_  
_"How did you know where I-"_  
_"You were always so predictable James... but always in a good way. Goodnight." I said hanging up._

 

I turn 'round to see my brother, with his arms crossed and and eyebrows raised, and the other man in the room, completely uninterested. "Baby James?" he questioned with half a smirk.

"We're just friends, John. You know I give pet names to everyone I know." I said in a nonchalant tone. He chuckled still turning to me as I walked off to _my_ bedroom-  _Sherlock's_ bedroom-- _our_ bedroom--- _the_ bedroom.  
"Is he nice?" John asked before I got a hold on the door knob on the door to the room.

I rolled my eyes at him and said, "Tell Sherlock I'm sleeping in the bedroom tonight." I then walked in, leaving my brother's question unanswered.

I chuckled and groaned in annoyance, then peeked my head out of the room, "He's a sweetheart John!"

* * *

 

I woke up in the middle of the night... or early morning, _whatever it really is_ , with a weight on my back, _literally._ Something heavy was on me and my claustrophobia slowly started kicking in. I slowly shimmied out of my predicament as my face then got covered in curly, dark hair. I spat out some that got in my mouth and realized that Sherlock was on lying top of me.  
I always thought he'd be quite hollow and easy to move because the man rarely ate, but boy was I wrong. He's as stuffed and heavy as I would be after eating a big meal, and yet he is still so slim.

Once I was on the other side of the bed, and he was opposite to that, I looked at him and chuckled, thinking that he would only ever sleep next to me if his life depended on it, knowing him. I then felt my eye lids get heavy as I realized that Sherlock Holmes had _somniloquy_ and yet he was silent. Poor baby, he probably was too tired to even sleep talk.

I then rested my head and fell back into sleep.

 

I woke up again after a few minutes, and saw that Sherlock was not next to me anymore, instead, he was standing in front of the window. I stretched and groaned, calling the man's name. "Sherlock."

He didn't turn around but I knew that he heard me. "Go back to sleep."

He turned around to look at me in confusion, "Wh- but you're in... you're still sleeping." he said stopping in between his sentence in order to yawn.

I rolled on the bed, cuddled a pillow, and sighed. "That didn't stop you a while ago."

 

He gave me a hard stare and told be he didn't mean to wake me and that he wasn't sleeping, "It was a power nap."

I chuckled, then beckoned him to sleep. "A person needs to sleep at least seven to ten hours a day."  
"An _average_ person, I'm not average Audrey." he said turning around to face the window again. "Yes, indeed. You are not average, that means you need _more,_ not less, love." I said softly, feeling myself drift to sleep.

He didn't reply.

"You know, you talk in your sleep, Sherlock." I said, sitting on the bed, still cuddling the pillow I was previously. That reminds me, where did my teddy panda bear go? His name is _Bamboo,_ by the way.  
"You have an extreme case of _somniloquy,_ as you regularly have conversations with yourself." I yawned. "I would know, I watch you sometimes." He put his hands on his back then turned around. He opened his mouth to say something clever... cleverly _useless,_ to be exact, but I cut him off, knowing if he talked, he would never shut up and would wake both of us up entirely.  
"You weren't talking when you took your _'power nap',_  I would believe that that was because you were so tired that you couldn't. So please, sleep. You know my conscience will not allow me to if you didn't."

 

"Nothing's changed between us. I don't _love_ you." he said, making me throw a face of confusion at him. "Uhm... I don't follow, why would you-- I didn't say you did."

 

"I kissed you earlier today... because you asked me to, not because I wanted to. I didn't feel anything when we kissed and I never will. Emotions are foolish and weak, don't make this harder than it should be by caring for me and involving yourself with me romantically."

I laughed softly then yawned. Afterward, I turned to Sherlock, confused by my actions, or at least the laughing part as it was fairly obvious why I yawned.

"I don't think you understand that I already care for you. I care for your well-being and I don't ever want you to think otherwise, even if you do want to." I said. "As for the romantic part, I feel that way towards someone else." I said with a soft smile

He knit his eyebrows but then quickly relaxed his face. _"Baby James_." he said simply.

I felt my cheeks heat up, decided to change the topic. "Cuddling releases oxytocin, which you know is also known as the feel-good hormone. Cuddling can also release endorphins, which is the chemical released that also contributes to the feel-good feeling."

"I wasn't cuddling with you." he said, with a hard face.  
I chuckled, "I didn't say you did, I'm implying that _I_  want to. It isn't the same with a pillow." I said throwing what I was cuddling to the man who refused to sleep. He was about to say something, so, to shut him up, I pleaded, then gave my puppy dog face. He never really was affected by my puppy dog face but it never hurts to try.

 

 He clenched his jaw, but then walked over to me. A small, victorious smile was place on my lips as he sat down next to me.

I sighed in relief as I put his arm on over my shoulders and rest my head on his chest. I heard his heart beat, slow and calming, and he was warm. I pulled to both of us down, so we were lying on the bed instead of sitting. I wrapped my arms around the man's thin frame and drifted off to sleep.


	5. Whoever gets Holmes to like them deserves an award.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I made Audrey's outfit on polyvore because I felt the need for you to visualize the look, also cause I just really love red dresses and wanted a visual for inspiration.  
> [HERE IS THE LINK](http://www.polyvore.com/might_be_bad_but_im/set?id=212467493)  
> I DID NOT SPELL PROOF THIS AT ALL YET  
> I SINCERELY APOLOGIZE FOR MY LAZY ASS AND FOR ANY TYPOS  
> salamat  
> xxx

I was sitting by the window of the restaurant _London Love_ for about five minutes now. Most people, at this point, would've lost hope and just came to the conclusion that they were, in fact, being stood up. But I knew better than to be a big ol' pessimist, plus, I knew James and trusted him. He was not one to stand someone up.

I was fiddling with the ring I had on my left middle finger, it was a golden flower and I had grown quite fond of it, so much so, that even if it didn't go with [my outfit](http://www.polyvore.com/might_be_bad_but_im/set?id=212467493), it'd still wear it. But thankfully, I think it goes with everything.  
My red dress was hugging every curve of my body, while my shoes, classy and sharp-looking they may be, were seriously uncomfortable. My lips were the same shade of my dress, which was the same shade as the wine I drank.

What can I say, red is the color of power and red rightfully looked good on me.

The waiter had asked me for about the hundredth time if I'd like to order, and I was about to reply the same thing, _I'm still waiting for my date_ , but then I received a text, which read:  
" _Audrey, darling, I am so sorry to say this, but I can't join you tonight. Business has my hands tied up, but I promise that I'll make it up to you. I am so sorry, I swear I was so looking forward to tonight._ "

I turned away from my phone, to the waiter, then softly said, "Uh, no--I'll have the check please."

He nodded and pursed his lips, giving a sympathetic look, as it was quite obvious that I was just stood up.

 

I decided to walk home because, through it all, the night was still so beautiful, and I did have my black coat along with me.

Sure, my heels were giving me hell, and it was generally hard to walk on the damp sidewalk, but you know what they say,  _no pain, no gain._

Besides, the night sky was so clear, there were no clouds in sight, and it put the moon and stars on full display. I was, as always, in awe due to the beauty that was presented to me. Man, the world was so beautiful, anyone who would dares to say otherwise is simply viewing everything the wrong way. As I continued to walk, I suddenly had the strangest feeling that I was being followed, so, I turned back and looked around, but no one behind me. Dammit, I suddenly remembered all those stories John told me about women being swooped up in the middle of the night. Why did you have to make me so damn paranoid, brother?

I turned around one more time, quite fast enough to see a familiar head of curly hair run to the shadowy side of the building.

I chuckled, it wasn't a _psychopath..._ just someone a little **less.**

"Sherlock, I've caught you. You can show yourself now." I chuckled and I heard him groan right after. "It's not like me to get caught."  
I laughed at his reply as he then walked into the light. I extended my arm towards him, indicating that he join me in walking back home and I then said, "I just get really paranoid when walking home alone. Believe me, if I wasn't, I would've never even turned back because I didn't hear a thing." He gave a pleased smile and then retorted, "Well, you were always _tone_ deaf, it wouldn't surprise me if you were _literally_ deaf." as I linked arms with him.

I snorted out a laugh and playfully slapped his shoulder, "Rude. But on the bright side, look at me, with my heels on, I am _this_ close to being as tall as you." I said with a small happy dance.

I pulled him closer to me and rested my head on the side of his shoulders as I then remembered that Sherlock was **_stalking_** me. "You creepy man, you were stalking me at my date!" I exclaimed in a sort of _eureka_ moment. He rolled his eyes, "It wasn't a date, because a date would mean _two_ participants were involved."

I chuckled and felt my face heat up, "Okay, so what, he stood me up. It still doesn't change that fact that you're a _creeper_."

He was supposed to retort but he then got a call, causing him to break away from my arm. "Yes? No, I'm outside right now...... We'll be right there." He said, walking of to the edge of the sidewalk and called for a cab. Luckily, there was one heading our way so we both then got in. "There was a murder and they found something odd on the victim's body-- _the morgue, sir_ \-- and they want me to take a look at it." Sherlock said, interrupting himself in order to tell the cabbie where we were to go.

 

I simply nodded as we headed off.

 

When we got there, I realized it was actually the first time I had went here. I mean, I never actually had the guts to go here with them because, well, there's a lot of death in the atmosphere and I am not fond of that. I walked into the pale room with lights that did not help in illuminating the dark corners, and I saw the woman in a lab coat who was quietly waiting for us-- or probably just the detective. Sherlock wasted no time in greeting or introductions, and went straight to the corpse. I gave the pathologist a soft smile and warmed up my chilled hands before extending one to her. She shook it and I introduced myself. "Audrey Watson. I'm John's sister." She gratefully smiled back and replied saying, "Molly Hooper, I, ehrm, work here."

I nodded and casually added that I was an artist and she nodded to that after me.

"Good talk, ladies. Well, the dark spots all over his body were caused by a certain poison injected in those areas specifically. Oddly enough, he was not killed by the poison but by strangling inflicted three days afterward." He said stepping away from the corpse and turning to us.

"Bloody hell." I sighed out in horror

"I'll need to run some tests in the lab to determine exactly what kind of poison was used. Molly, get me some samples, and coffee while you're at it. Audrey, come along, I need an outside eye and an extra pair of hands with my experiment." He said, almost walking out of the room, but I called for him right before he could.

"Sherlock, get your own bloody coffee." I said in a scolding manner, "And Molly, dear, whatever happens, never get a rude man a cup of coffee." I said turning to the defenseless looking woman, walking out right after. Sherlock gave me a questioning look as I held the door and pointed to the direction of the building's cafeteria. "Go on, get your own coffee. I'll help Molly with the extraction of the samples."

He was about to fight me but I gave him _that_ look, making him close his mouth and walk out.

 

I did exactly what I said and helped Molly with the samples. I asked her what I should do as I removed my coat and put my curled hair up in a pony tail. She looked at me as I held the tray with tools for her and I examined her actions. She was getting some blood samples and skin samples, as well as saliva samples and hair. "I've never seen anyone talk to Sherlock like that." she said, almost like a whisper.

I chuckled, "Well, isn't it about time someone put the man with a _superiority complex_ in his place." She found no amusement in that, but forced a soft smile as she turned to ma and focused back on what she was doing. "You know I don't bite, right? It's alright to talk to me." I said breaking the silence she helped to keep.

Once she was done with what she was doing, she put the samples and the tools she used back on the tray I was holding, and told me to follow her. I asked her to bring my coat along and she did just that. We got to the laboratory that was equally pale and dim as the other room. I placed the tray right were she told me to, as she then started to set up the equipment. She told me I could sit while she set up, and sit I did. "How long have you two been together?" she said with a tone that trailed of. I knit my brows and almost laughed, but I realized that she wasn't joking.

"Oh, no, no. I am dressed up for a date, but it's not with him. We're-we're not... _dating_." I said with a chuckle before I said the word  _dating._ She looked relieved right after I said that, as she finally got the confidence to speak up but still stuttered when she did. "Oh-I'm sorry- I just thought- I mean, you two seem to know each other very well." 

"Well I do live with him." 

"..."

"I mean, I live with him and my brother. It's... temporary. I don't normally stay long in one place, as I love to travel. I'm only staying til I get sick of seeing my brother's and Sherlock's face everyday." I said, stopping to laugh softly, "They're actually making it quite hard because of their interesting and mysterious lifestyle." I added in a truthful tone.

Immediately after my sentence, the door opened and the displeased looking detective walked in with no cup of coffee in sight. "I spilled my coffee on my way here."  he said pursing his lips and walking towards us, in order to start his experiment.

 

After finding out that it was a  _boring_ _poison_ , Sherlock's words, not mine, we went off and waited for a cab outside the morgue. I stood next to Sherlock, as he looked both ways for a cab. "You know, you could be a tad nicer to Molly. Just because she's sweet doesn't mean you have the right to treat her like a child you can boss around." I said as Sherlock turned to me and knit his eyebrows. "Nice? How can I be nice? I'm not nice? And I like boss everyone around. I don't know why you're being so _particular_ with this with Molly."

"It's because she likes you, _dinkle-head_."

"Dinkle- that's not a word."

"Pah, don't change the subject. You should, at least, pretend to acknowledge her presence. She asked you like thirty question in there, and every single time, you ignored her and asked me to get something for your lazy arse."

He did not respond to my words, as I then called a cab and we both got in and went home.

 

Once we were home, John was sitting on the couch, watching a rubbish show. "I thought you were having dinner with that bloke?" my brother asked as Sherlock and I removed our coats, I removed my dreadful shoes as well. "Yeah, I was until he stood me up and decided to walk home instead. Mister creep over there stalked me, and I only noticed due to my paranoia. Thank you for implicating that on me, by the way." I said as I walked off to get changed, hearing John laugh at my last statement.

When I was dressed into something comfy, I walked back to them seeing that Sherlock had spaced out again. I didn't address that though, only continued my story. "I then joined Sherlock to the morgue where he examined a corpse and found that he was poisoned with something boring and that brings us to present. Oh, and I met Molly, the poor girl's in love with oblivious Sherlock."

John frowned and nodded to that, "I honestly feel sorry for whoever ends up spending their life with _this_ man." he said cocking his head to the man in his mind palace.

I chuckled, "But, I do think that that person should be honored."

"Really?" John asked, scrunching up his nose and smiling.

I nodded my head and smiled as well. "Whoever gets Holmes to like them deserves an award." John laughed, "That goes Mycroft as well." I added with laughter.


	6. I never want to lose you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my internet baby,  
> I have finally understood the problem I have with this story  
> I have been holding back.  
>  _Brevity is the soul of wit,_ that is something AO3 reminds me often when I haven't written something 10 characters long yet, and switch from html to rich text.  
>  Anyway, I read all these really nice stories that are cut to the chase and not too long, and I have tried doing that, and instead of being cut to the chase, it surpesses my creativity and the essence of the plot, but no longer!!!!!!! I will stop trying to do that and write in my honest and long fashion. So, you can expect longer chapters now because I have finally come to terms with the fact I write wordy stories and like to put detail in the stories.  
> I hope you like my writing still  
> And sorry for any typos  
> Adieu  
> xxx

I felt the cold fall on my skin as I stepped out of the cab.

I was on a case with John and Sherlock this chilly afternoon, and the crime scene was by a park so I decided to bring a small blank canvas with me and oil pastel, knowing that I wouldn't really pay too much attention on the dead body and would find inspiration in the scenery. I sat on a bench, quite distanced from the police tape that surrounded the scene, but I wasn't too far. That allowed anyone who was looking for me to spot me quite quickly.  
I found the way the policemen buzzed around amusing and something worth capturing forever. I knew it was probably wrong to harshly capture the scene of a murder, so I decided that I would romanticize it a tad, but capture the emotions I felt when turning to the scene.

But before I started, I wanted to make sure I wouldn't upset anyone because of this just like what happened to Sherlock before.

 _'Is it alright if I drew the scene with oil pastel on a canvas?'_ I texted Lestrade. I saw his grey hair spring up against all the other people's hair and he spotted me after a minute of searching in the sea of people

_'You mean you want to draw the scene? Why are you asking me? -GL'_

_'Cause you are the head of the investigation and I don't want to be raided by the police for possibly offending a rule or something against drawing the scene!'_

_'As far as I know, there aren't rules about not drawing the scene and there are going to photos taken by the press of this anyway, so knock yourself out. -GL'_

_'Thank you, and stop signing your name at the end. I know who you are!'_

_'Old habit I got from Sherlock, sorry -GL'_

 

I groaned and chuckled simultaneously then I waved to Lestrade. He waved back then got focused back on the investigation going on. I saw John give a face at whatever and place his hands on his hips, and then I saw Sherlock's curly head of hair bob around the scene. At the rate of his momevent, it was as if he found the scene to be a playground.

I laughed at the thought of Sherlock running as a child and started drawing the view. I started with the bright police tape and the trees and the black coats everywhere. Instead of making the portrait as dark as the feeling I had when I looked at the scene, I added flowers all around so at least it wouldn't seem so sad.

In the sea of black coats, I added one that was pink and gave that person a head of curly hair. If you could put one and one together, you would know that that's me making fun of the _ever-so-great_ detective.

I turned back to glance at the crime scene and I saw my brother walking towards me.

I looked at him, but made no gesture, only allowing him to walk over and myself to continue my portrait. I started doing the light and the shadows on the illustration just as John took a seat next to me.

"Whatcha up to, _Dey-Bri?_ " my brother asked looking at the portrait I was doing.

"Well, obviously, I am planning a _new_ and more _exciting_ murder, _Muffin-Head_. I have this brother who asks the most obvious questions and I'd like to end _both_ of our misery." I said with much sarcasm to go around, making both of us laugh.

He smiled at word and turned to the portait. _"It's beautiful."_ John said, obviously referring to my painting. I turned to him, smiled, and nodded, "Why, thank you, brother of mine." I said, finishing the portrait and signing it on the top, left corner.

John knit his brows, "Why is it you sign your paintings in random corners?" he asked as he watched me sign the finished canvas with a light colored pastel.

"Well, before it was just because I wanted to, but then a lot of art critics got annoyed because they'd have to look for my signature first and their reactions of annoyance are priceless."

John chuckled as we then stood up and went to the crime scene, my pastels in my bag and canvas in hand.

 

"Marvelous, two more people to boast to." Sherlock said, pushing both of us to the scene and explaining what happened. It was all too quick to get the exact details of the murder, but long story short, the dead woman had an affair and the husband killed her in the street along with her the wife's new lover.

I always felt awful after hearing the motives of murder.

I mean, was it really necessary or was what happened  _that_ extreme that it had to lead to you snuffing out the life in someone?

I started to feel uncomfortable and down right awful, so I slipped away from the scene. I crossed the police tape and just as I did, I saw a man infront of me who pulled a gun and cocked it.

 

"Put down what you're holding and put your _fucking_ hands up!" he shouted at me, holding up a gun in one of his hands.

Immediately, I felt my heart beat so fast, it was as if it wanted to jump out of my chest. I slowly did what the mad man asked, placing the canvas on the floor, and then I heard voices behind me, trying to talk to the man. "SHUT UP!" he shouted back angrily.

"Come here, girl." he told me and I started feeling my hands shake and my head go light. My breathing was unsteady and my feet felt prickly, like I was stepping on a thousand pins. I walked towards him slowly and my hands were so sweaty, you would believe me if I told you I washed my hands.

"WALK FASTER, _BITCH!"_ the man shouted, making me huff and rush towards him as I felt tears prickle in the corner of my eyes.

"DON'T TALK TO HER LIKE THAT AND PUT THE GUN DOWN, _MR. PRESTON!"_ Sherlock said, bravely walking towards me, making Lestrade and a few others turn to him. The woman who was killed- her name was Elizabeth Preston-- this mad man was her husband. The man then pulled me towards him and strangled me with his free arm.

John suddenly ran towards us but then the gun was once pointed at them was now pointed at my temple and my brother stopped moving right after. I felt my legs slowly give up because of that and the scene was going dark. His arm was strong enough to keep me erect but for the same reason, that strangled me and cut my air off.

"STAY BACK OR I **WILL** PULL THE TRIGGER!" he taunted, making everyone go quiet.

 

I fought to breathe but I was already so shakey and his arm was _really_ put on my neck. "I LOVED LIZZIE! SHE WAS MY SUN AND MOON UNTIL HER FILTHY CO-WORKER STOLE HER FROM ME! I DID THE RIGHT THING, SENDING MY _WHORE_ OF A WIFE AND THAT SPINELESS MAN TO HELL!" the man shouted.

"You can believe what you like, but the girl in your arms is innocent. She had nothing to do with any of that." Sherlock replied, stepping closer to us. "STAY! BACK!" he shouted again, his grip on my neck tightening. I started seeing black all around and I could feel my pulse slow drastically.

"STAY BACK OR I _WILL_ SHOOT HER!" he shouted once more, stressing out the will again.

"THEN DO IT!" Sherlock shouted back walking towards him, making John look at him in confusion and anger, and my heart feel like it's been broken into a million pieces. No, why would he let him shoot me? I can't believe he'd do that. "I _FUCKING_ WILL YOU _FUCKING_ IDIOT." he shouted, pushing the trigger harshly onto my temple and tears rushed down my face.

"DO IT, SHOOT HER AND PROVE TO US WHATEVER IT IS YOU WANTED TO!" Sherlock said walking even closer, John was right behind him, clenching his jaw and fists in nervousness and anticipation. I felt like puddy and I finally fainted in his arms, my sight going all completely dark. The last thing I remembered was falling to the ground and people screaming incoherent things.

* * *

I woke up in a hospital, with dextrose plugged in the top of my hand. I slowly flutter my eyes open, but everything was so bright I couldn't really open them at first. When I finally did, I saw John pacing around the room and Sherlock sitting on a chair to my right, intensely looking at me. I saw his lips twitch into a soft smile and his eyes were apologetic.

"John, she's awake." Sherlock said to my brother, making him stop his pacing and sigh in relief. "Jesus Christ almighty." John said as he walked towards me. "How are you feeling?" he asked standing by the left side of my bed, placing his hand gently on top of mine. Sherlock rolled his eyes and stood from where he sat, "She just got strangled whilst having a panic attack, how the bloody hell do you think she is?"

Sherlock walked over to the window and looked outside, while John's face hardened at his _friend's_ words. Once my brother turned to me again, his face softened to an apologetic look and my voice broke as I then started to speak. "Did I get shot?"

"No, no one got shot." he replied. "The mad man was just puffing his chest. He didn't have bullets in his gun, he just thought he could scare off the police by doing what he did. In turn, he pissed everyone off by choosing you as a hostage." he huffed and smiled. "I broke his nose and two of his front teeth, by the way." he said showing me his bruised knuckles.

I clenched my jaw and felt tears stream to the side of my face. "Hey now," he got on his knees. "I will always be there for you, Audrey." he said moving closer to me and giving a soft smile. "I never want to lose you." he added softly. "I'll do everything I can to keep you safe, do you hear me?" he said. I nodded simply at that and he smiled, "I swear on my life, sis."

"John, I think you should call the doctor and tell she's awake." Sherlock said, not turning or moving from where he stood, interrupting our moment.

 

He looked at Sherlock, clenched his jaw, then nodded. He got up and got out, leaving me and the detective alone in the room.

 

"Did you know there were no bullets in his gun?" I whispered, but it was loud enough for Sherlock to hear. "It wasn't even a functioning gun. Even if there were bullets, which there weren't, there was the highest probabitiy it wouldn't fire because it was a dusty, old gun that was never actually used." he said, turning around.

"But... if there we-re bullets, it could've g-one off." I said, my voice breaking. I felt tears roll on my face again and Sherlock walked close to me. "Audrey, if that was the case, I wouldn't have taken the chance." he said with a hard face.

Just as I was about to say something, John, along with a doctor, came in and walked over to me. After a few examinations, the doctor concluded that I could leave the hospital tonight and he perscribed some medicine for my panic attacks. John thanked the doctor and I simply nodded as he walked out of room.

 

Later that night, John, Sherlock, and I went home and told concerned Mrs. Hudson all about what happened as we spread across our apartment, and sat down where we pleased. "Dear goodness! Here, thank the heavens I thought of making you all some tea." she said handing all of us a cup of tea. I smiled at her and was about to say something but then Sherlock shouted for some reason.

"I GOT IT!" he said, placing the cup of tea he had, down while we all shook our cups in surprise. Thankfully, I didn't spill anything on the floor. " _Dey-Bri_ is short for _Audrey,_ obviously your first name, and _Briston,_ your middle name, which is also where you were born." he said jumping in joy. _"Ha,_ see that John! This time I didn't have to get a copy of a birth record to figure out _her_ middle name." He said standing in the middle of the room with a very pleased look on his face.

"For goodness sake, Sherlock. Does that actually even matter?" Mrs. Hudson rolled her eyes and sipped on her tea, while John and I exchanged looks and laughed, making Sherlock knit his eyebrows.

I spoke up, "I'll give you credit. You were _close."_

Sherlock's face dropped. **_"Close?"_**

John laughed in amusement and sipped on his tea, Sherlock turned to him in confusion and then to me, his face basically pleading for answers. "You were correct about _Dey,_ which took the last part of my first name. The _Bri_ part, however is **incorrect.** But _Bristion_ is _quite_ close to what it is, actually." I said placing the tea I had in my hands on the surface near me. "Also... I was born in **_Yorkshire,_** Sherlock, so that rules _that_ out."

Sherlock screwed his eyes shut and knit his brows, scoffing and pacing from where he stood. _"Yorkshire... **obviously**."_ he groaned in annoyance. John straight-up laughed at him and Mrs. Hudson and I chuckled.

 _"Bri_ is short for my middle name _Bristol,_  with an **L** not an **N** , which is where my parents met." I said with a smirk.

 

Sherlock pursed his lips and clenched his jaw, rolling his eyes at himself. "Of, course, of course. _Sentiment!"_ he shouted, scoffing and rolling his eyes again. He sat down where he did before and sipped on his tea. "Well, I was really close. It was a _single_ letter that threw me off." he said making a displeased face.

We all laughed at that and at how bothered he was for getting it wrong. "But," John said shifting from where he sat. "You were wrong." he added making Sherlock blurt out in anger and annoyance.

_"Oh, shut up Watson."_


	7. I care

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My baby, it has been quite a loooonnngg while, but fear not for I have SLAIN SCHOOL!!!!!!  
> (((((: I'M SO HAPPY  
> I hope to post more in so much more sooner and make everyone happy!  
> Sorry for any typos.  
> goodbye  
> xxx

~~_**(what the heck are you talking about, I didn't fall don't the stairs. No, you're crying!!!)** _ ~~

It was 3 am or something and it was one of _those_ nights, those nights were I really just didn't have the heart to go to sleep, though tired I may be, because closing my eyes would just remind me of everything I've tried to run from.

I didn't even attempt to sleep because I knew it was going quite impossible at this point.

John would be so damn angry at me in the morning if he finds out I didn't sleep and didn't come to him for comfort; he's always been so selfless when it came to me, he always put me above himself and I had always been thankful for that. But he deserved to sleep at night and not to listen to the stories of the monsters in my head.

I was in the living room, doodling on a sketch book, waiting to start a conversation with Sherlock, knowing he would be awake... _to say_ in a term. I've learned to be patient when I wanted to talk to him and not just _at_ him, so while he was in his mind palace, I passed the time by drawing whatever but never Sherlock. I've learned never to make that mistake again, never to do something that would lead to me being over-dramatic. The paper of my book was ancient looking because of the countless times I had stained the pages with a hot beverage I drank when drawing.

"Shouldn't you be asleep?" a voice spoke out, making me flinch at first but then smile softly.

**_Finally._ **

"Shouldn't I be asking you the same thing?" I said, turning my attention from the doodles on my book to the man who was now back on earth.

 

He did not look tired in the slightest, and his face was fierce and concentrated as per usual. "The girl didn't die at the party, nor in the car crash, she died in an assault. Her body was just put in the car to make it look like an accident." Sherlock said, as he shuffled from his seat which was opposite to the one I had been sitting on-- John's chair, in simpler terms.

"Good to know." I said as I yawned and placed my drawing book on the table next to the chair I was sitting on. I turned back to the detective who had his eyebrows knit and his lips pursed in a straight line. "You should be asleep." he said, this time in declarative form, a tad imperative, but no longer interrogative. I was supposed to reply, but my nose twitched, and I sneezed, so I decided on saying something else. "Dear goodness, I have to dust this place." I said with a sniffle. John had cleaned out the apartment for the sake of me _not dying_ because of my allergies, days after I got here. But apparently, I must get to cleaning the place because I might soon... _die._

I looked at the man whose eyes where narrowed and whose lips were pressed against the side of his pointer fingers, fingers which were pressed against one another. I curled up and hugged my legs that were now resting on the cushion of the chair. We looked at each other for a while and I eventually thought to speak up. "Well, what else happened to the girl in your case?" I asked, making Sherlock blink in slight confusion.

"Why do you want to know?"

"Well, I mean, you did just solve it. Why won't you... just fill me in on an exclusive, yeah?" I said, making the man's face soften and light up considerably. He wasted no time in pushing me further into going to sleep, and quickly explained to me the foundations and the outcomes of the case. He spared no detail, left nothing out, and told me, what felt like, everything on his massively fast paced mind. I struggled to understand a few of his fast spoken words, but got the essence of his case nonetheless.

"So, basically, girl meets guy, girl turns down guy, guy becomes obsessed, guy gets drunk enough to kill girl, guy gets sober enough to cover up his mess, guy leaves an important detail, and consulting detective solves case." I said with a soft and pleased smile. Sherlock cocked his head, "Well, if you leave all the good parts out."

I chuckled lowly, "You know, the way I summed your case up is how the police want to hear it."

"I know, they're idiots." he said standing up from his seat in order to play his violin where he always did. I frowned slightly, I knew he probably didn't mean I was an idiot in that sense, only in his _I-Sherlock-Holmes-am-smarter-than-everyone-ever-period_ sense, but I couldn't help but let his statement get under my skin. I shuffled from my seat then smiled softly at the music he played. I pushed my head back and rested it on the chair and felt my body relax as the sound engulfed me as well as everything else in the room.

The music made me remember a time when I was younger, when John and Harry took me to the playground after I had a bad day at school.

 

_"Dey-Bri!" John shouted as I ran away from him. I was giggling because my brother's legs were longer than mine and yet I could run faster, so much faster than he. I found a thrill in our little game though he pretended we weren't playing any longer. "Dey-Bri, it's not time to be playing! I--" but he could not continue his annoying scolding, for his foot got caught in something, causing him to fall face first onto the grass, making me giggle even more at him like the child I was._

 

I smiled at the memory then heard Sherlock play his last note on the violin, making me open my eyes, smile, and applaud him. "Bravo, stupendo." I whispered as Sherlock put his violin down and walked in front of me. He stood in front of me, with his brows knit and his eyes as fierce as ever. He then knelt down then grabbed my hand, making me feel electricity that woke me up. I quickly pulled away, making Sherlock knit his brows even more.

"Audrey, tell me what's wrong." he spoke out in a serious tone.

I knit my brows quickly then my face softened, "No, no. Nothing's..."

"Audrey, you are evidently in need of sleep and yet you're here, applauding me. Is it the nightmares again?" he asked bluntly.

I felt my mouth go dry, I never told him that, but then again, this was Sherlock after all, and he knew everything... _besides the fact the world revolved around the sun._ I sucked in air and leaned back. He got his answer by my non-verbal reply. He then stood up and headed out for the door. I panicked, as I knew what he was going to do. "No! Don't tell John!" I said feeling a shiver run down my spine as I jumped off of my seat and ran in front of Sherlock to block his way. "You don't understand, I-"

"Audrey-"

"No! John deserves to sleep at night and I can't keep poisoning his mind with the monsters that pollute mine." I wheezed out, making Sherlock look at me in concern as I felt myself grow heavy with anxiety. "No, no, no. Audrey, Audrey, look at me." Sherlock said as I felt my legs turn puddy. I then fell onto Sherlock's chest probably just as he anticipated, because soon enough he pulled me close to him and lead me to the sofa. He and I sat on the stiff cushion, my breathing continued to heave as Sherlock stroked my hair in an attempt to comfort me. "Focus on me, nothing else." he whispered as he cupped my face in his warm hands, making my cool face burn in contrast.

"Sherlock-" I heaved out in a sort of cry for help. He knit his brows and glued his eyes on me, "Audrey," he whispered in a soft and low tone. "Breathe, listen to my voice." he said just as I felt tears run down my cheeks. I then screwed my eyes shut and breathed slower, still very much listening to the relaxing voice the detective had. "John is still asleep much like a baby, and you will be too. You'll be dreaming of calm and sweet things, like... _rainbows,_ and _sunshine,_ and _flowers,_ and _honey..."_ he said trailing off as he named more and more things that were actually more silly than relaxing.

After saying _cotton candy_ and _chocolate syrup,_ I chuckled under my breath at the detective then placed a finger on the curly haired man's lips. It stopped him from speaking and I smiled in appreciation of the silence. I wrapped my hands around the man's nape, then plunged in for an embrace. I suddenly felt like crying but thankfully held myself back. He had no idea what to do but freeze up and keep like a statue, so I decided to guide him. Still staying in the warmth of the man, I placed his arms around me and nuzzled my head on the crook of his neck.

He sighed and I knew that he was about to protest, but I instead beat him to it and held him tighter, my soft body crushing against his firm one. "Oxytocins, Sherlock." I mumbled, knowing he'd quickly understand what I meant. After speaking out my reason, Sherlock tensed up against me but then pulled me closer to him and placed his chin on the top of my head. I smiled and shifted where I sat, my legs going over Sherlock's lap so a more comfortable cuddle was achieved.

 

As we now shared the same temperature of warmth and as I slowly felt myself calm down, calm enough to actually feel sleepiness catch up with me, Sherlock spoke up. "Audrey, you should go to sleep." he mumbled, making me pull away. I gazed upon the detective and nodded. "I do need to sleep, but I'll only go to bed if you do too." I said, not even bothering to listen to his reply, simply pulling hi  by the wrist and dragging him with me to the bedroom.

I jumped to the bed and moved to the right side, allowing Sherlock to lie next to me. He looked at me for a moment but laid down, nonetheless. "Why do you like cuddling with me so much?"

"Because you don't move and you're so warm." I said softly, as I positioned my head on his chest and wrapped his arm around my shoulder. "Also, I've come to realize your somniloquy goes away when we cuddle so, you're welcome Sherly."

We stayed in silence for a moment, but Sherlock then spoke out, "Don't call me that." I simply chuckled at the man who indeed did not move a muscle and I gradually felt my eyelids go heavy. As I felt myself drift into sleep, Sherlock snapped me out as he then spoke out two words that left me puzzled. "I care." What on earth did that mean?

"If you ever need to talk about the monsters in your head but don't want to bother John, know that you can talk about them to me." he said in a flat tone. I turned to him and had my jaw slightly agape. This man was an enigma, was he just? "I don't sleep much anyway." he added in a sort of way of reassurance as his eyes locked on my own. I smiled softly at him, then embraced him, nuzzling my head in the crook of his neck, making him huff a bit at the force I exerted on him. "Do you really mean it?" I whispered.

"I do." he replied right after, making me break into a wide smile. I then started fiddling with the curls of his hair, feeling awfully cared for because of the words of Sherlock. "Stop it." he commanded only slightly moving his head away. I chuckled, "But what if I don't want to?"

"Audrey."

"Sherlock."

"Stop."

"Fine."

With that, I kept my hand by the side of Sherlock's face and closed my eyes, allowing myself to drift off to sleep. "Somniloquy," was the last thing I heard as Sherlock hummed in some sort of contemplation.


End file.
